Missed Drinks
by Lawrencespen1777
Summary: Shawn is found deathly ill and unable to "see" into the spirit realm. Will the team be able to solve the case of his poisoning before it becomes his murder?
1. Man Down

Detectives O'Hara and Lassiter pulled up in the driveway, after midnight as per usual. Rain pelted the car, sounding like gun shots as it landed. The water was already running over the road, threatening to fulfill the weatherman's flash flood warnings. The house Shawn and Juliet shared was silhouetted against the cloudy sky with every lightning strike. The detectives quickly dove out of the car and made a beeline to the covered porch.

"Geez, Spencer didn't even leave a light on for you?"

Juliet's eyebrows furrowed.

"That's unlike him," she said slowly.

Carlton reached the door first, sighing impatiently as Juliet searched for her keys. Marlowe was nine months pregnant and the hormones raging through his house at the moment were...let's say intense. He'd been on edge all day, and was really looking forward to he and O'Hara's traditional end of the week drink. But something didn't feel right...

"Sorry, I found them," O'Hara said as she fumbled them next to the lock.

Carlton put a hand in the doorknob and turned.

"The door's unlocked. He usually leave it open like this?"

Juliet felt a knot form in her stomach.

"Never," she breathed.

Carlton put a hand on his gun and opened the door. Juliet followed on his heels, stopping only to flip on the light. Lassiter was already bending over the couch.

"The he-...Spencer?" Juliet rushed over to see Lassiter put a wrist against Shawn's forehead. "He has a fever."

Juliet moved around to the front of the couch and crouched down beside Shawn. He was lying on his side, knees curled up, convulsing violently. Although the only thing he was wearing was a pair of basketball shorts and an old T-shirt, he had sweat through them both and onto the couch.

"Oh my god, Shawn...Shawn, wake up." Juliet sat beside him, shaking his shoulder gently.

Shawn took a shaky breath and curled further into his knees. Juliet, concerned looked behind her to Carlton, who stepped in.

"Spencer, hey." His voice was much softer. "Can you sit up?"

Shawn groaned in pain, clutching his stomach.

"Jules," he moaned.

Beads of sweat ran down his face as he shook.

"Shawn, why didn't you call me," Juliet scolded gently. She laid a cool hand on the back of his neck and felt the heat radiating off in waves. "You're burning up. Carlton, there's a thermometer in the cabinet above the sink. Grab it for me?"

Lassiter nodded and left to search for the thermometer while Juliet pulled Shawn into a sitting position. He promptly leaned over and rested his head in between his knees.

"Is it your stomach," she asked, rubbing his back.

Shawn nodded and groaned again. "Jules..." But Lassiter interrupted him.

"Found it."

O'Hara took the thermometer and put it in Shawn's mouth. "Under your tongue."

"Juliet...," Shawn mumbled again, the thermometer hanging out of his mouth.

"Thirty more seconds, Shawn. Then we'll talk."

But Shawn shook his head and pulled the thermometer out of his mouth.

"I'm gonna be sick."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Shawn began to gag. The next five seconds were a combination of Jules saying, "Hold on. Hold on," and Lassiter jumping out of the way, crashing into the coffee table.

Shawn tried to stand up, but his shaking knees wouldn't hold. He crashed back down and wretched, vomiting down his shirt and onto his shorts. After about fifteen seconds the nausea finally dulled. Shawn stared at his lap, taking shallow breaths and swallowing hard.

"It's okay, Shawn. It's okay. You're really sick. It's...it's happened to everyone," Jules soothed, casting another nervous look to her partner. "Let's get you changed. Can you stand?"

Shawn nodded, but never looked up. Humiliated, he tried to stand without touching anything. Juliet put an arm around him as he swayed back and forth, and Lassiter, who was stunned until that moment, grabbed an arm. Shawn stopped moving, one hand on his stomach and one on his mouth. The effort of movement made him gag again, and Lassiter jumped back once more. To all of their relief, however, it was a false alarm and Juliet lead Shawn to the bedroom to find some new clothes.

"Can you find a trash can," Jules asks as she passes Carlton. "Please?"

"Uh, yeah, definitely," Lassiter said, apparently still stunned by what had just happened.

Juliet and Shawn reappeared in the living room a few minutes later. Lassiter held out the trash can without a word, and she set it down on the floor by Shawn's pillow. Shawn curled up on his side again, clutching his stomach.

Juliet sighed as she and Carlton walked into the kitchen together, speaking softly so as to not disturb him.

"I've never seen him this sick," Juliet whispered. "If he's not better in the morning, I'll have to take him to a doctor. I'll call if I'm going to be late."

Lassiter nodded. "Of course. I'll leave you guys alone. Let me know if you need anything."

Juliet nodded and opened the door with a small smile, watching as Carlton ran out into the rain. Thunder rattled the windows as she returned to Shawn's side to try the thermometer once more.

"Here. One more time, Shawn," she said as she held out the thermometer.

Shawn said nothing, but allowed his temperature to be taken. Still taking shallow breaths and swallowing hard, he peeled his eyes open as the thermometer beeped.

"Oh my god, Shawn," she whispered. "103. When did this start? You seemed fine this morning!"

Shawn tried to answer, but nausea overcame him again. Sitting up quickly he grabbed for the trash can with shaking hands. Juliet felt helpless, wishing she could do something for him. When his stomach finally calmed Shawn fell back against the couch, eyes closed, with tears streaming from exertion. He didn't seem to care, and another knot formed in Juliet's stomach.

"Shawn, can you remember how this started? It's very important. Did you eat anything strange? Did you go anywhere for a case that Lassiter and I don't know about?"

Shawn thought hard, flipping through scenes of the day. But everything was a blur. All the memories were dull after lunch. He couldn't tell which we're today's memories and which were yesterday's. His head pounded under the stress, and he felt sick again.

"Lunch," he gulped. "Weird lunch." Then he made another grab for the trash can.

Juliet picked up her phone and dialed quickly, a terrible feeling rising in her.

"Gus, it's Juliet. Were you with Shawn at lunch today?"

The storm was doing a number on her cell phone service. Gus's voice was broken up, every other weird indecipherable.

"Say again? I can't understand you," Juliet said loudly. She grabbed a rag from the sink and ran it under cold water as she waited anxiously for Gus's words.

"Juliet? Are you still there? Hello?"

"Gus, I'm here! I need you to tell me where you and Shawn went for lunch today."

She squeezed the rag and brought it back to Shawn, who was shaking violently from the fever. She held the rag to the back of his neck. Gus's words were staticky and came through in bits.

"Shawn...case...bar...alright?"

Juliet sighed. "Gus I can't understand you. If you can hear me, Shawn is really sick and I have a bad feeling. I'll call you back soon."

"Shawn, I think something's really wrong. You're never sick like this. It could be serious. I'm taking you to a doctor first thing in the morning."

She expected Shawn to whine like he usually did when Juliet forced him to go to the doctor, but it never came. Instead he only nodded, knuckles white as he gripped the trash can. His breathing was heavy and shallow.

"Do you need anything?"

Shawn didn't respond, but stared off into space.

"Think you could hold down some water?"

Shawn still didn't respond, eyes glassy.

"Shawn," Juliet said softly and reached out to touch his face.

Before she could question him again, Shawn had collapsed, sliding off the couch and hitting the floor with a thud.

"Shawn," Juliet yelled, kneeling down beside him. As his body convulsed violently, Juliet felt sick herself, he was seizing.

Without warning the front door opened once again. Juliet didn't take her eyes off of Shawn, even to see who it was.

"O'Hara," she heard. "It's me. I came back because-"

"Carlton," she yelled. "Help me!"

Heart racing and adrenaline pumping, she tried to pin Shawn down. She felt Carlton bump into her as he knelt beside Shawn.

"Don't hold him down," he instructed, pushing her hands away. "Here, help me turn him on his side."

Together, they rolled Shawn over and then waited a long, painful, wait. When the convulsions finally passed and Shawn lay unconscious, Carlton reached out and felt Shawn's pulse. Juliet didn't realize she had been holding her breath until then.

"It's weak, but still there," he said softly. "That's good."

Juliet reached for her phone on the coffee table. "I'm going to call an ambulance."

"Don't bother," Carlton interjected. "The storm knocked a tree across both lanes. Traffic backed up a half mile. That's why I came back. Nothing's getting through."

Juliet was on the brink of tears. "We have to do something!" Her voice was high pitched and wavering. She looked at Carlton silently, begging him to intervene. She'd been in countless life or death situations. She knew what it was like to remain calm and think through the panic. But this time, it was Shawn. Her Shawn. "We have to do something," she repeated more softly, tears spilling over.

Carlton grabbed Juliet's shoulder, "Juliet, listen to me," he said forcefully. "I will not let anything happen to Spencer. Do you trust me?"

Juliet nodded without speaking, eyes still wide with fear. Carlton looked from her to the phone in her hand.

"I have a plan."


	2. I May Be Falling

Shawn's eyelids sounded like sandpaper as they blinked. He saw Juliet hovering above him, blonde hair hanging in her eyes. Man, she looked like an angel with the light behind her like that. He tried to smile, but everything hurt and he winced instead. He could tell she was saying something, talking to him, but all he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears. What had happened?

Carlton appeared by her side, handing a phone back to her. "I finally got, Guster. He's going to meet us. We just have to get him there." He bent down beside her to get a better look at Shawn. "Is he coming around?"

Juliet set her hand on Shawn's chest and stared into his glassy eyes. She sighed. "I think he's conscious just...unresponsive."

"That's normal," Carlton assured her. "Let's just hope he bounces back quick so we can get him to the car."

Shawn felt the weight of Juliet's hand on his chest and relaxed into it. Sleep threatened to overcome him as his muscles loosened, and it was tempting. But no. He needed to wake up. He needed to talk to Juliet. She looked worried. The pounding in his ears began to subside, and the world around him came into focus once again.

"Shawn, I need you to wake up...please," he heard.

Shawn mustered everything in him to mumble, "Jules."

"Shawn," she half choked, half sighed, "Thank God. Can you move at all?"

"What happened?" Shawn's voice was hoarse and his throat felt like he'd swallowed a razor.

"You had a seizure. Lassiter thinks you've been poisoned."

"Poisoned," he repeated in a whisper.

"Yes. Do you remember anything?"

Shawn thought hard. "C'mon...c'mon...," he told himself. Nothing. Everything was blurred together. "I can't remem-"

The end of his sentence was cut off by a cry of pain. Stabbing pains penetrated his stomach and he doubled up again, rolling over and vomiting onto the carpet. He'd never felt pain like this.

"Jules," he whimpered.

"We need to go now, Carlton! Hang on, Shawn."

XXX

Shawn didn't remember how he got there, all he knew is that he was wrapped in a blanket and laying down in the backseat of a car. His head was in Juliet's lap and her hand in his hair. With every bump Shawn groaned, trying to keep the contents of his stomach from creeping up his throat.

"Careful, Carlton."

"I'm trying," he growled back. "This vehicle wasn't exactly designed for off-roading. There he is."

The car stopped abruptly, and Shawn felt Jules slide out, shutting the door behind her. Lightning struck somewhere nearby and the resulting crash made his head spin until he could barely tell up from down. He senses were failing him and for the first time that night, he felt afraid.

"Jules," he called trying to push himself up on the seat. "Jules!"

The car door opened. "Hey...hey...Shawn, I'm right here." Juliet soothed. "You're okay."

"I don't understand," Shawn panted. "What's going on?"

"It's just your fever. It's messing with your head. You're okay." Juliet tried to keep the tremor in her voice to a minimum. Once Shawn seemed to relax a little, she continued. "A tree is down across the road. Gus is meeting us on the other side and we're going to get in his car and go to the hospital."

Shawn nodded, but didn't reply. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He heard Lassiter's voice.

"The rain's let up. Better go now."

Juliet pressed a cool hand against Shawn's forehead and sighed. She let it trail down his shoulder to his arm then to his hand. She pulled him to the edge of the seat.

"Can you stand," she asked softly.

Shawn nodded and used his remaining strength to push himself up. Still wrapped in a blanket and shaking violently from the fever, Shawn and Jules trudged through the rain around the fallen tree to the other side of traffic.

"Everything hurts," he whispered where only Juliet could hear.

"Almost there, Shawn," she promised. "Just a little farther.

Thunder crashed again, and the dizziness returned.

"Oh god," he moaned. Placing both hands on his head, he tried to focus on which way was up, but quickly lost his balance. Juliet made a grab for him, but missed. Thankfully, Carlton wasn't far behind them and was able to get a hold on Shawn's arm.

Shawn pushed him away, though. Shaking his head and mumbling, "I'm gonna puke," he doubled over, stomach tightening painfully.

"Shawn!"

Shawn recognized Gus's shoes as they ran up to him.

"Grab an arm, Guster! Hurry!" Even shouting, Lassiter's voice was barely audible over the storm. "We need to get him to the hospital!"

Shawn felt Juliet's hand leave his back as Gus and Lassiter pulled him into a standing position, half supporting, half dragging him to the car. Shawn crashed into the backseat, moaning into the ever familiar fabric. He was soaked, whether from sweat or water, he didn't know. Either way, he was beginning to panic, flinching as three doors slammed around him.

"Hang on, Shawn," Gus said and Shawn heard the Blueberry kick into gear.

The next ten minutes were a hazy mix of panic and confusion. Shawn's head was back in Juliet's lap, heart racing uncontrollably, and his stomach in unbearable pain. The car was silent, everyone concentrating on one thing only. Get to the hospital. Just get to the hospital. Shawn sat up in an attempt to get his bearings, but the resulting dizziness only aggravated the intense nausea. Gus hit a pothole and Shawn's body dry heaved in response. He put his head in his hands and Jules rubbed his back helplessly, but still no one spoke. His heart raced faster, faster, faster. His vision became spotty and his breathing more labored. He couldn't take it. It was too cramped. His clothes were choking him. The heat was too much. He had to get out of the car. He sat up again.

"Shawn, are you okay?"

He ignored Juliet.

"Shawn, just lay back down. We're almost there."

He ignored Gus.

He felt like everything was closing in, smothering him. "Jules," he whimpered. "I can't breathe."

Juliet looked at him, wide eyed. "What?"

"I can't breathe," he gasped. "I need out."

"Shawn, no! Do not open the door! Carlton!"

Juliet desperately fought Shawn's hands away as he tried to find the door handle. Before he could get ahold of if, Carlton had taken off his seatbelt and turned around in his seat.

"Hey. Hey. Take it easy, Spencer. We're two minutes away. Take a deep breath."

Shawn gasped, "I can't. I can't breath." Terrified he looked into Lassiter's eyes. "Lassie, I can't breath!"

Shawn started to feel lightheaded as he gasped for air. "Juliet," he choked as he started to fade in and out of consciousness. "I can't die like this."

"Stay with us, Spencer," he heard, and a strong hand shook him forcefully, but the colors had already begun to dull. The car scene pulled in and out of focus until the only thing Shawn could feel was Juliet's hand on his chest once again. "Shawn, hang on," she begged, but he couldn't respond. He tried to focus. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Until this too, like the pleas of the detectives faded away and all was finally still.


	3. Say Anything

**Thank you all for reading this far! This story has been a lot of fun to write, and I can't wait to write more! Also thank you to all of you who have reviewed. It's very encouraging. Much appreciated. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. If you have any ideas or something that you would like to see happen in this story, put it in a review. Who knows? Might just make it in the story!**

Juliet sat alone, staring blankly into one of the hospital's sterile, white walls. She held her head in her hands, concentrating hard to erase from memory what she had just experienced. Her hair, still soaked from the rain, dripped down into her eyes, blending well with her silent tears. Her body trembled, her drenched clothes doing nothing to guard against the freezing waiting room air. She felt something heavy drape around her and looked up. Carlton had taken off his blazer and placed it over her shoulders. He stood in front of her, rolling up his dripping sleeves.

"You looked cold," he said plainly.

She nodded gratefully, and looked down again. He didn't walk away.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, O'Hara. I know it was difficult."

Juliet huffed. Difficult wasn't a strong enough word. They were two minutes away when Shawn first said, "I can't breathe." By the time they'd reached the hospital Shawn was barely conscious, his lips already turning blue. She'd panicked, gaping at Carlton as he'd started the standard procedure for victims in respiratory arrest. Stood rooted to the spot as Gus had run inside for help. And stared helpless as her partner beat air into Shawn's chest.

She looked back up at Carlton, no longer hiding the tears streaming down her face. "I should've done something," she sobbed. "Anything! But I just stood there! Respiratory arrest was in my training! I knew what to do! I just..." She trailed off, putting her hands over her face as she sobbed.

"You were in shock, O'Hara."

"I was useless," she snapped.

Carlton said nothing, but instead sat beside her, just an extra body, company. Visions of nurses surrounding Shawn, pumping oxygen and inserting tubes, shifting him onto a gurney and wheeling him away through the rain, played through her head once again. She couldn't unsee it.

She sniffed loudly and attempted to wipe away her tears only for new ones to fall. "But you-," she choked.

Carlton turned his head to look at her, still expressionless, but listening.

"You didn't even miss a beat! You were just able to jump right in and save his life," she rambled. "I love him Carlton! I love him! And still I just stood there and I didn't move. I couldn't move..."

Juliet sobbed harder into her hands until her whole body shook once again. After a few moments, Carlton gently pulled her hands away and covered them with his own.

"Juliet," he said softly. "If that had been Marlowe out in that parking lot, barely breathing, I would have been an absolute wreck... And it would've been you saving her life. No doubt."

Juliet drew a shaky breath in an effort to contain herself.

"Now as your senior officer and as your friend I'm telling you that it is okay to be upset. And it was perfectly normal for you to be scared." He reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "This wasn't some random case. This was personal."

Juliet's lips trembled as she looked into he eyes. "I can't lose him, Carlton."

"I know," he whispered.

Gus, who had been pacing the length of the waiting room, crashed into the seat across from Juliet. He wrung his hands, nervously glancing at his phone every few seconds.

"Did you get Henry," Carlton asked.

"Nah...not yet," Gus sighed. "The storm must've knocked out every cell tower from here to Canada."

The three of them sat in silence for what felt like hours until Gus finally spoke up.

"I can't take this much longer," he said, jumping out of his seat to pace some more. "Shouldn't they know something by now?"

"I'm sure they'll tell us when they have something," Lassiter mumbled, leaning his head back against the wall.

A million questions ran through Juliet's mind. None of this felt real. She glanced at the clock on the wall, 2am... She and Shawn should be wrapped in a blanket right now, eating chips and salsa and finishing the chick flick of Shawn's choice. How did this all happen?

"Gus, did Shawn act like anything was wrong while you were together today? He seemed fine when I left this morning," Juliet said, thinking hard to remember when she had last seen Shawn.

Gus pursed his lips in thought and ran a hand over his tired eyes. "No," he sighed finally. "We went to lunch. We got slushees. We don't even have a case..."

"Leave it to Spencer to get poisoned while he's not even investigating," Lassiter interrupted.

Juliet gave a small smile and stood to her feet. "I'm going to go ask about him."

As if on cue an older man in scrubs walked through the waiting room doors and turned their direction.

"Juliet O'Hara," he asked, reading a clipboard through thick bifocals.

"Yes. Yes, that's me," Juliet said, nervously crossing her arms.

He smiled kindly at her. "Shawn's stable."

"Oh thank God," she exhaled, closing her eyes. Relief spread through her body like warmth. "Thank God."

"Now he's not out of the water yet," the doctor interjected. "We still have to get that fever under control. But he's breathing and he's resting. That's very good," he assured her.

"Thank you so much," Juliet said, feeling warm for the first time since leaving the house. "Can we see him?"

"Well, he's been moved to the ICU until we can get his bloodwork results back and the proper medication administered. Right now we just have him on a cocktail of things to control his symptoms. So you can visit but uh..." He glanced behind her at Gus and Lassiter. "Probably just one at a time." He smiled again, good-naturedly. "He won't be up for a good while anyway. We gave him something to knock him out. He's a talkative one. That's for sure."

Juliet smiled. "He's definitely that. Thank you so much for your help doctor."

"Of course," he said graciously. "I'll be checking in on Shawn from time to time so I'm sure we will meet again. Until then."

The doctor gave a friendly nod and turned to leave, but Gus stood up to catch him.

"Excuse me, doctor? One last question."

"Of course. What can I do for you?"

"Well," he began, debating how to phrase his question. "I know you said that you were doing bloodwork because you weren't sure of the cause of all Shawn's symptoms but...in your professional opinion...you know, if you had to take a guess. What would _you _say is wrong with Shawn?"

The doctor stared at Gus for a few long seconds before answering. "Well," he finally said. "We can't be sure, but... your friend is displaying several key symptoms of poisoning."

Gus, Lassiter, and Juliet exchanged wary looks.

"I'm not sure what your young friend may have gotten himself into, but it very well almost cost him his life."

The doctor stared silently at them for a few moments, smiling suspiciously before turning on his heel and exiting the waiting room. The three detectives were left to their thoughts, wondering who, or who wouldn't, want to kill Shawn Spencer.


	4. Shame I Wasn't There

Juliet watched intently as Shawn's chest rose up and down, up and down. Or maybe she was watching only to make _sure_ his chest was rising up and down. She'd lost track. Sunlight streamed through the slotted blinds and played across the white hospital blankets. Shawn had been unconscious for hours now...or had it been days? Surely he'd wake up soon. He had to.

The hospital room door creaked open and Lassiter slid inside, grimacing slightly.

"Still not awake," Lassiter asked, handing her a cup of coffee.

Juliet shook her head, but accepted the coffee gratefully. "Not yet," she sighed.

"You know, you don't look so good either, O'Hara," he said, moving in front of her to get a better look. "Have you slept at all?"

"I can't," she said exasperatedly. "I've tried. I just..." She trailed off as she watched Shawn sleep. "I just keep running that day over and over in my mind. Who would poison him?"

Carlton shook his head slightly. "I don't know either, partner. I spent most of yesterday retracing his steps with Guster. Nothing. Not even a trace."

Juliet sighed and set down her coffee. She was jittery enough as it was. "The nurse said that they can't treat the poison until they know the poison. They can only treat the symptoms. And they won't know the poison until the bloodwork they sent off comes back and that could be three more days," she said hopelessly, leaning her head back against the wall.

Carlton put a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I'll keep looking. There has to be a trail somewhere."

Neither one of them spoke for several minutes, both silently reviewing the case. Finally, Juliet yawned and asked, "Did you see Henry?"

Carlton huffed. "Yeah I saw him come through right before I left last night. Chewed me out."

She furrowed her brow. "Chewed you out," she repeated.

"Yeah. I told him not to panic, because there was nothing else we could do. He said when it was my kid in the ICU then I could talk to him about panicking...and some other choice words."

Juliet gave a small smile. "He's in the cafeteria now, grabbing some breakfast."

Lassiter sat down in a chair on the opposite wall, and glanced at Shawn. "If you want to get something to eat too, I'll stay here with him. You've got to be hungry."

But Juliet shook her head and stood up, walking over to the bed. She stared longingly at the man she was in love with. Two days ago everything was fine, and just like that... She traced her fingers over the veins in his hand like she often did, stopping only to intertwine them gently. Only then, careful to avoid the oxygen tube and IVs, did she lean down and kiss his feverish forehead, praying silently that he would wake up soon.

XXX

Shawn woke slowly, very slowly, to a pounding migraine. He willed himself to pry his eyes open, but immediately regretted it. The light only intensified the nausea he still felt. What was that noise? "Some sort of chainsaw," he mused. He turned his head slowly to take in his surroundings and found the source of the disturbance. His dad lay asleep, slouched in a chair, and snoring loudly.

"Dad," he croaked, taken back by how dry his throat was. He closed his eyes tightly and tried again. "Dad."

"Shawn," he heard. "I'm right here, kid."

Despite the pounding in his brain, Shawn forced his eyes to open again. The room was spinning, making it difficult to focus.

"Where am I at," he slurred, groggily.

He felt his dad's hand rest on his shoulder.

"You're at the hospital. Someone poisoned you, Shawn," his dad said softly.

"Poisoned," Shawn repeated, memories starting to resurface. "I couldn't breath," he mumbled after a while.

"I heard," Henry said with a grimace. "You went into respiratory arrest. Lassiter saved your life."

"Oh no," Shawn said, throwing his head back. "That's no good."

"What do you mean?"

"Well he's not just going to let something like that go is he," Shawn huffed.

Henry rolled his eyes, but stayed close to his son, comforted by the fact that he had at least retained his sense of humor. Shawn panned the room once more.

"Where's my lover," he asked, swallowing hard, and a little offended that she wasn't there when he woke up.

Henry must've noticed Shawn's skin turn a shade of green because he moved a pale pink washing basin within arms reach. Shawn ignored it, but continued to breathe deeply.

"Gus took her home about an hour ago. Lassiter's orders," his dad answered.

"Oh," Shawn said softly.

Henry saw the look of disappointment on Shawn's face and squeezed his shoulder.

"She's worried herself sick about you, Shawn," he assured him. "Hasn't slept in almost three days. Barely eaten. She was getting delirious on us. Lassiter had to force her to go home."

Shawn nodded, but kept his mouth shut tight. He wished that she was there, but sensing what was about to happen, he was thankful she was not. His head pounded even harder, and he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

"You alright," he heard his dad ask.

Shawn shook his head slightly and the room started to spin like a Tilt-A-Whirl. It was too much and Shawn struggled to sit up, reaching blindly for the bin. Henry was a few steps ahead, shoving it next to his chest just in time for Shawn to vomit forcefully. Shawn whimpered as his stomach contracted, sending spasms of pain throughout his entire body. He was shaking so hard that he almost dropped the bucket, but fortunately Henry grabbed it from him just in time. One hand held the bin against Shawn's chest, the other pressed heavily on his back. Shawn willed himself not to be sick again, but the waves of nausea wouldn't stop. He drew in breath after shaky breath, expelling the contents of his stomach every few seconds.

"Dad," he whimpered again in a moment of vulnerability that he never would've shown on purpose.

"I know, son. I'm right here. I'm not leaving," he comforted.

Shawn's stomach didn't have anything left in it, so his body could only dry heave. He put his head into his hands and gagged, spitting bile into the bucket. Henry set it down on his lap and put a large hand on Shawn's forehead. Shawn unconsciously leaned into it.

Henry swore under his breath. "I'm going to get a nurse. Hang tight, Shawn."

Shawn heard the door open and close. He leaned back into his pillows as more waves of pain wracked his body. Exhausted though he was, he couldn't stop shaking, and every slight movement hurt like hell. He gagged again and wiped sweat out of his eyes, shutting them tight as he willed his father to come back quickly. He soon heard the door open and several quick footsteps enter.

"Dad," Shawn choked. "What's happening?"

The words didn't even sound like English, and even as he spoke, his vision began to blur once more.

"Shawn...Shawn, you're not making any sense. I need you to concentrate."

"His fever's spiked," Shawn heard one of the the nurses say.

"I don't feel so good," Shawn slurred.

"I know, kid. Just stay awake for me, okay? Talk to me. Tell me what you love about Juliet."

Shawn smiled, or at least he tried to. "Where's Juliet," Shawn asked.

Shawn felt his father grip his hand.

"She's with Gus, remember?"

"I love Juliet," Shawn hummed absentmindedly.

"I know you do," Henry humored.

"I hope she gets out of the hospital soon."

"Oookay," Henry grunted. "Listen Shawn. Your temperature is really high right now and these nurses are going to fix that so just take it easy."

Shawn nodded, lurching forward as he dry heaved again.

"I'm giving you something for the nausea, Mr. Spencer," Shawn heard from his right. "Keep taking deep breaths for me alright?"

Henry laid his son back down gently, keeping his hand firmly on Shawn's shoulder. Shawn fixed his bloodshot eyes on his father. "Maybe I should lie down," he whispered.

Henry tried his best not to look worried. "Good idea, son."

Dark spots started to creep in around Shawn's vision once more. "Dad, don't leave. Please don't leave," he begged, his eyes wide and panicky.

"I'm not, Shawn," he assured him. "I'm not leaving, kid. I'll be here when you wake up. I promise."

"I don't want to die," Shawn whimpered, and a knot gripped Henry's stomach.

"You're not going to," Henry whispered, but Shawn was already unconscious once again, leaving Henry to hope that he had, in fact, told Shawn the truth.


	5. Even the Good News Hurts

Hello readers! Thank you all for sticking with me and I apologize for making you wait so long for an update. Thank you to those who encouraged me to keep writing this story. You're the reason for this next chapter. Much love.

"A coma? How is that better," was all Lassiter heard as he met Gus in the early morning on the corner of Maple and Broadrick. He waited patiently, squinting into the glare of the downtown windows as the phone call continued a few moments longer. Finally, Gus put his phone back into his pocket, attention turning to the detective. He grimaced.

"Bad news," Lassiter asked warily.

Gus's brow was furrowed and his eyes were watery from exhaustion. "That was Juliet," he said as if forcing the words out of his mouth.

"I thought she was at home," Lassiter said as they set off down the street to a popular fisherman's bar.

"She was," Gus replied, "But Shawn's not doing so good," he said, his voice faltering sightly. "She took a cab back after I came to meet you."

The two men entered the bar together and squinted. It seemed dark and dingy to their unadjusted eyes after walking so long in the sunlight. They looked around, but there was no one to be found.

"I assume that they're putting him into a coma because he still can't keep anything down," Lassiter asked.

"Yeah," Gus sighed. "They had him in ice this morning because his fever is too high, but he's in too much pain. Keeps passing out." Carlton said nothing, and Gus continued. "His body's just exhausted. He can't fight it so...they're putting him in a coma to give his body a chance to fight the poison."

"We need to find out what the poison is," Lassiter said in a low grumble.

"Shawn just has to hold on a few more hours until the bloodwork comes back. He'll be fine," Gus said, but with a note of uncertainty.

XXX 1 hour earlier XXX

"Shawn, Shawn, I'm here. It's me," Juliet panted as she rushed into the hospital room, reaching desperately for Shawn's hand.

She couldn't really call what she had been doing "resting," sleeping maybe, but it was an anxious, fitful sleep. She was pulled out of a bad dream to her cell phone ringing shrilly. It was Henry. She needed to come back to the hospital, now.

"Juliet," he groaned, his body wracked with chills. Sweat trickled down his ashen face, now tinged with green, illuminating the dark circles that had formed around his eyes. "You've got to make it stop. Please, Jules," he begged through gritted teeth.

Ice packs lay scattered on the bed in an attempt to bring down Shawn's temperature, but they were strewn by his thrashes of pain. He grabbed at a bucket to his left and pushed himself up, spitting bile as he dry heaved. Juliet cast a wary look behind her to Henry who ran his hands over his eyes in exhaustion.

"He's been talking out of his head all morning," he sighed. "His body can't take a fever this high."

Shawn grit his teeth as he convulsed. His eyes were screwed together in pain, and he gripped the bed sheets so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"Take deep breaths," Juliet soothed, pressing her cold fingers to his cheek. "I'll stay right here."

XXX

"Stay right here," Lassiter ordered. "I'm going to go check and see if they're out back."

Gus nodded and watched the lanky detective disappear out the door. It was hard to believe that this was the same crowded bar that he and Shawn had a drink at just a few days ago.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember things like Shawn remembers things. But so much had happened since then. That was three whole days ago. He couldn't remember the waitresses name or what she had said to them. He barely remembered what they had ordered.

But Shawn had said, "weird lunch," to Juliet, and this is definitely where they had eaten lunch the day he had gotten sick. Gus opened his eyes again. He had to be missing something, something right in front of his eyes.

XXX

Shawn was dying right in front of her eyes, and there was nothing Juliet could do to stop it. She had to be missing something. Shawn was put into a medically induced coma only moments ago, yet he already appeared motionless almost...lifeless.

Henry sat in a chair across from hers, dozing softly. He'd been up almost as long as she had. Of course he was exhausted. Of course he must be scared.

She held on tight to the knowledge that in just a few short hours, they would have the results back from the test and they would know just how to treat the poison. Shawn was resilient. She was sure that once given the proper medicine he would be back to himself in no time...or would there be lasting effects? She hadn't thought about that. No. Shawn would be okay. He had to be okay.

XXX

What was he going to do if Shawn wasn't okay? If he...no. Gus couldn't bring himself to think about that. He needed to focus on finding the person responsible.

"Focus. Focus," he whispered harshly to himself. "What are you missing?"

The shrill ring of his cell phone jolted him harshly, the kind of jolt that makes your heart race for a few long seconds. As he answered Lassiter came back to the bar with what must have been the owner.

"I'm sorry, detective. Now you're welcome to look at our security tapes if you'd like, but the only folks we really get in here are old fisherman. They don't seem to me to have the know-how to poison anyone."

"And none of your employees have been acting strangely the last few days," Lassiter interrogated. "Everyone has been showing up for work."

The older gentleman nodded his head.

"We've had the same few people working for us for years, no one new. They're good people," he said after a few seconds of silence, "Would never do something like that. They have no reason."

Lassiter nodded but remained unconvinced.

"Again, you're more than welcome to question them if you'd like," the owner tried again, but he trailed off as Gus approached them, staring at his phone, saying nothing.

"Any news, Guster," Lassiter asked, dreading the answer.

Gus nodded slowly.

"That was Juliet," he whispered.

"And," Lassiter drilled, almost too harshly.

"And...the poison couldn't be identified," he mumbled through the shock.

Lassiter rubbed his tired eyes. He knew what was coming next.

"And was does that mean for Spencer," he asked, in a softer tone.

"It means," Gus swallowed, "If we don't find who poisoned Shawn soon...he's going to die."


End file.
